


Isn't It Always About Lance?

by CaptainHuggyFace3218



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And i will give it to him, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Different Prompts, Each prompt differs in size and genre, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt Lance (Voltron), I love him, Info will be at beginning, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Langst, M/M, Multi, With warnings too, all about lance, deserves the world, give me prompts, he a scientist bois, hes my fav, ill tag as i go - Freeform, keith needs more love, lance is so gentle and nice, please read the warnings if you're easily triggered, prompts, since dreamworks wont, talks about love, there's a angsty lance, there's also a lil klance because i cant help myself, there's small lance with his grandpa, there's super smart lance, they be fishing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-05-27 06:46:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15018977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainHuggyFace3218/pseuds/CaptainHuggyFace3218
Summary: Little one shots about Lance. Genres will vary and each will have info/tags before it. Warnings and/or context will be added, if needed.(I guess you could request but like, if I don't feel that drug of inspiration then like sorry. Not trying to be mean. Also they have to have something with lance -like platonic, romantic, or just nothing. Imagination is keys boissss)





	1. catching feels [platonic Lance/grandpa]

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a little thing I was cooking up for a soulmate au. Basically once you either 1) can't see color until you find your soulmate or 2) you can talk to them like telepathically until you meet but lance is 3) both. lucky him. this is just a short little quip about insecure little Lance who needs just a little bit of love and affection. let me know how it goes if you like (also its pretty short, sorry, getting back into the groove of writing)
> 
> tags: soulmate au. hunk/shay but only if you squint. lance and his gramps just on a lil fishing trip. spoiler: they don't catch fish
> 
> rating: PG like this is all fluff omggg

“But, Abuelo! I was only trying to give her a flower –it was pretty and Hunk said it was red, and when I picked it, it bit me!- and I tried to put it behind her ear, like you used to do with abuelita, but, but she-“ tears sprung into the eyes of a six year old Lance, whose dreams had just “bit me- _really_ hard!”

The man with a strong build, big eyes, and even bigger belly, turned away from his casted rod and faced his grandson. A chuckle escaped his throat, much to the child’s discontent. “Now, why would she do that?” A scream erupted from Lance as his grandpa brought him over his knees and tickled his stomach. The attack was followed by the older man’s mouth, blowing bubbles and eliciting more laughter. “Perhaps she also thought you tasted sweet, hm?”

“Abuelo, no!” Lance squirmed against the hold restricting him, breaths coming out fast and quick. “No mas! No mas, please!”

“Okay, okay.” Offering a minute so Lance could compose himself, Lance’s abuelo voice switched to something much more serious. Lance’s continuing laughter came to a rapid stop, mouth slightly agape as his abuelo seemed to age before his very eyes. “Mi ninito, listen close, okay?” Satisfied with the slow nod, the man continued. “You don’t have to spend forever chasing after one person, and esta bien, it’s okay, if the person you like does not like you back.”

“Are you saying that because my person never talks to me anymore?” The man’s eyes widened. He did not think that Lance would understand what he was saying and his mouth moved to speak, when he was cut off by the little boy sitting down and hugging his knees to his chest. The ocean breeze played with brown hair. “Everyone else has that somebody special who still talks to them, but I don’t. Why Abuelo? Do they not like me? Am I- Am I not special enough to be liked back?” His voice was riddled with cracks, throat closing up with the need to cry.

“Do not say that Lance. I talk to you, your parents talk to you, and Hunk talks to you as well; and we all like you- love you even. Are you saying we are not special?”

“No! Abuelo, I didn’t mean-“

“Ya se, Lance, no te preocupes. I know what you meant, and that is why I’m trying to tell you that…” the grandpa moved to catch his rod when movements became apparent, “there are other fish in the sea!”

The abuelo chuckled softly as Lance cocked his head to the side. “What… of course there are?” So confused was he that his statement was stated more as a question. The abuelo couldn’t help but break out into rambunctious laughter, placing the shaking rod back down.

Looking into the child’s eyes the abuelo grew serious once more. “Lance, don’t misunderstand. Find someone who makes you happy, no matter what.” Still seeing apprehension present in the little boy, he continued, “you know, your abuela wasn’t my soulmate-“

“What?” Lance sprang up, his eyes wide as a whole new way of thinking, or rather possibility. “Really?”

“Yes.” Ruffling Lance’s hair softly, his eyes grew wistful. “She and I were not soulmates, but we might as well been. She- she was amazing Lance. She stood up for what she wanted with a fierceness that I have never seen before. Beautiful too and funny and compassionate and- she wasn’t my soulmate Lance, but she was my _everything_.”

“So- so you’re saying…” Lance sat back onto the pier, legs dangling over the edge dangerously as he eyed the colorless raging water below, “my person… doesn’t have to be my person?”

A sad smile appeared on tired old lips. The abuelo leaned down to ruffle Lance’s hair, “I’m saying to decide your own fate Lance. For your happiness.”

A somber silence and then-

“Abuelo… the fish.”

“ _Santo Dios_!”


	2. Ready for this, Not ready for love [Klance]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doubts himself, not his love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so that moment when your idea turns into a keith appreciation one shot omg he took over
> 
> tags: klance, keith-centric a bit but a lot of lance (obviously), a panic attack, talk about love, the first time lance said i love you, keith needs more love and appreciation, not edited, done in two hours so sorry if its bad and also sorry for the shortness

“I love you.”

Keith’s mouth gaped, mind racing a mile a minute all the while fixated on one thing. _What?_

Instantly his thoughts strayed to all the past love confessions Keith had been privy to (not many and all of them had taken place on tv). Whether it was some cliché love story or an adrenaline-filled, teary proclamation or even simple nothings under the stars, they all had one thing in common: the statement was always reciprocated. ‘I love you’, ‘I love you too’; that’s the way it always worked… _right?_

Keith looked into clear blue eyes. Eyes that looked at him so soft, as if he were something to be handled with care and _love._ Keith looked at upturned lips. Lance smiled like he was perfectly content with _destroying Keith’s mind_ with one simple phrase or like he finally said the words that have been on his mind for a while.

And it probably was on his mind for a while now, hasn’t it?

Was that love? Hips that slowly rocked into him, taking their time to fully rip Keith apart? Arms that cradled Keith close into an embrace –never suffocating- that seemed to never want to let him go? Held him, touched him, and _listened_ to him as if Keith was worth doing all that for and more.

Was that love?

Keith felt hands rake against his scalp. Lance had been lying next to him, peacefully, with that smile on his face, waiting for something, maybe an answer.

_Oh quiznak, an answer!_

“Lance… I-I…” It wouldn’t come out! Why wouldn’t it _come_ out? The words clung to the inside of his throat, clawing and raking and staying _put_. Keith choked on it, tears appearing in the form of words he couldn’t say.

It was just a simple ‘I love you too’! Why couldn’t he just say it? What was wrong with him? Was he so broken, so dumb to not-

“I can hear your thoughts from here, samurai.” Soft fingers (how were they always so _soft_ ) peeled Keith’s hands from where they had been pulling hard at his strands. _Oh, was I doing that?_ His breaths were coming out too fast, so fast, soft hands touched his chest, breathing hard, _I need air_ -

“Keith, baby, breathe with me.” Lance spoke gently, pulling one of Keith’s hands to his own chest and placing it there. “It’s a panic attack, Keith-“ _he was panicking, a panic attack, okay- “_ so I need you to just focus on me. Focus on breathing with me, can you do that for me, baby?”

Keith shakenly nodded, eyes glued to his hand placed on a warm chest. He breathed in deep, as slow and steady as he could until he was breathing fine again. Lance, sometime during Keith’s cooldown, had pulled him in to his chest and held him there.

It was safe. It was warm, but Keith needed to say something.

“Lance.” Keith’s eyes clenched shut, voice cracking slightly. “I-I can’t say it.”

“And I don’t expect you to. Not if you’re not ready.”

A pause. “What?” Keith nearly whined as he felt Lance let go of him, slumping to lay on his back.

“Keith I didn’t say it so you had to say it back.” Serious blue eyes met his. “Never say it thinking you have to Keith.” Keith looked away in admonishment, but Lance’s hand on his chin guided him back. “I love you.”

Keith blushed but slightly shook his head all the same.

“It’s true. I say it because you make me happy Keith. I wake up in the morning feeling so blessed I get to kiss you, hold you, and make you laugh. Did you know your nose wrinkles in this cute, adorable way when you laugh? Like honestly, I could get diabetes from just watching you keithy boy.”

“Lance!” Keith could feel the heat radiating from his face in embarrassment.

“What? It’s true. You like to pretend you’re mad at me, but you have this secret tell that tells me you’re not.”

Keith couldn’t help it; his curiosity was piqued. “What is it?”

“Your eyebrow twitches.” Lance cackled in laughter.

“For real? You’re not messing with me, right?”

Lance’s laughter died and Keith shrunk from his serious gaze. “No. I’m not Keith. I watch you, not in a ‘creepy stalker way’ but in a ‘you’re beautiful and I can't stop staring’ way.” A pause until a large cheeky smile shone on Lance's face. "Also your armor really highlights your butt." A shriek and more laughter.

_I don’t think this blush is going away any time soon._

“I love you Keith. And I’ll wait for you- forever if need be. We have plenty of time.”

And so they laid underneath the castle’s bland ceiling where time stretched forever.

 _Yeah, we have forever._ And lucky for Lance, Keith thought, he wouldn’t have to wait for a reply long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keith needs more love and that's final. fight me.
> 
> also, PSA: IF SOMEONE SAYS I LOVE YOU, YOU ARE UNDER NO OBLIGATION TO SAY IT BACK. if you say i love you from this forced preconceived notion of society then you're not being fair to the person you say it to. You should say it when you're ready, when you're comfortable, when you're safe, etc etc. it all depends on you and no one is the same.
> 
> thanks for reading!


	3. It's Raining Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whenever it rains, it aches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kinda just a ramble of Lance post-season 6 so obviously *season 6 spoilers* just of how he can feel when it's raining and everyone rains on his mood unintentionally
> 
> tags: lance-centric. just an exploration of Lance. Lance & other mentioned. keith has a mom and i love her.  
> rating: PG

_“Whenever it rains, it aches.”_

Lance remembers when he told Hunk this. It was a little slip of the tongue at the Garrison, too early in their relationship for an allowed further probing so it was only met with an odd look. The statement, even in space, rang true.

He could feel it. It was a pain akin to heartbreak, albeit only for a shorter rang of time. His heart hurt, a physical pain in his chest that almost stopped his breathing. There was no scientific explanation for it, nothing other than Lance somehow knowing it was raining at home. It wasn’t the reminder of his family (that pain never left, always stayed right there in the forefront of his heart and mind) nor was it the insecurities that always seemed to bubble up inside of him.

It was rain and how Lance had missed it. The way the first splatter would send everyone else running for cover but he would smile up at the gray sky and open his mouth awaiting for a lucky drop. The way the rain would shower him completely till his clothes were drenched and yet it felt like an embrace. The way his mother would greet him with champurado, something similar to hot chocolate, to relieve the weariness of his bones.

The way it felt like home.

“Lance?” Pidge waved a hand in front of his face, a snarky pout raised onto her lips. “Were you not even listening?”

Hunk nodded in agreement, listening even if his hands and mind were on the parts in front of him. “Yeah, you seem a little out of it.” He paused, then nodded sagely to himself, “And not your usual ‘thinking-about-Allura’s-hair’ out of it.”

Lance rolled his eyes as one of his hands massaged the place on his chest where it ached. “Oh ha-ha and no, I was not. Jeez, can’t a guy zone out once in a while without question?”

“Nope,” Pidge popped the ‘p’, moving to click aggressively on the screen. “And don’t dodge the question.”

Lance slowed his rubbing, the ache now solely in his head. “It’s nothing.”

Hunk paused his work to send Pidge a look and then in unison they sent him an unabashed look that made him wither in his seat. “I don’t know Lance. It’s kind of obvious there’s a problem.” Lance looked up, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. If he talked about it, maybe then it would get off his chest.

Pidge clicked her tongue. “It’s an Allura problem.” And the light in his eyes dimmed.

“Or a mullet-wearing Keith problem,” Hunk shrugged.

“Or a lack of love problem!”

“Or…” Hunk faltered. “Wow. You got me there. I can’t think of anything besides something involved with loverboy lance.”

Pidge cackled and they both turned to Lance who wore a tired smile on his face. “So what is it?”

Lance shook his head, his smile feeling heavier by the second. “You know what? You’re right. It is just Allura.” He sighed and sagged in his chair. “She won’t even give me the time of day.”

Hunk shrugged. “She was pretty hung up on the one-who-shall-not-be-named.”

“Yeah,” Pidge issued a nod of agreement. “I think more refined and British-accent wielding is more her type.” She gave Lance a once-over. “Good luck.”

Lance looked away, heavy feelings of everything weighing hard on his chest. “Thanks,” he stated sarcastically. “Oh guys, I think I forgot to feed Kaltenecker today. I gotta- I gotta check on her.” He stood up and made his way out of Yellow’s large cockpit.

Pidge laughed. “And yet, another problem with a female. You have to step up your game Lance.”

Hunk laughed softly and sent him a smile as he made his way out. “Bye Lance.”

Lance looked back just as he was about to exit. Hunk and Pidge were now huddled together, talking their science and plans. They seemed fine together (fine without him).

Lance made his way out of the cockpit and out onto the planet where they had landed. It resembled the dry hills of a desert, sand reaching for miles with no end in sight. Lance sighed as his face was met with the glaring sun instead of the chill of water and his eyes were met with waves of sand instead of that of water.

“Lance? Are you alright?” Allura’s voice rang out to his left and he turned to face her, a smile unhesitatingly making its way onto his face. There was a slight smile on hers as well. “What are you doing out and about? I thought, from Shiro’s words, this weather was uncomfortable for your race.”

Lance shrugged then sent her a winning smile. “I’d persevere through anything just for a bit of your time, princess.”

Her smile died and Lance wilted on the inside. “Lance.” She sighed heavily and then looked to where the Blue Lion was standing. “Well, I must make my way back to the Blue Lion. Romelle is awaiting for me with such riveting stories.” She turned back to him with a hint of surprise, as if she had forgotten he was there. “Perhaps you’d like to join us?”

And join a group that didn’t want him? (He couldn’t help but to also think of Hunk and Pidge.) “Maybe another time Princess. Kaltenecker is waiting for me.” He watched as she nodded and turned to walk away. He called her back with a shout. “Allura?”

She gave him a look of inquisition. “Yes Lance?”

“Call her just Blue.” Lance gazed upon his old lion. “She likes it.” Or at least, he hoped she does. Maybe she was never his like he was never hers. Maybe he was just there to fill a void (like he filled the void when Shiro left, when Keith left).

Allura smiled, this time softly. “Alright.” And they both parted ways.

Lance had just made it to Red, a foot about to plant itself onto the unhinged jaw of Red when a flash of light appeared before him. Lance shouted as paws pushed on his chest. He landed on the floor with a dog above him, licking at his face.

(It was wet and kinda gross, but a part of him thought it felt like the stickiness of beach water long after it dried.)

“Yorak! Down!” Keith’s voice rang out stern. With one last lick Yorak disappeared and reappeared near Keith, tongue out and panting with satisfaction. Keith sighed. “Sorry Lance. Yorak gets too excited at times.”

Lance nodded, standing up fully and dusting the sand off his clothes. “It’s fine. I didn’t mind.”

Keith laughed softly (Lance wondered how much time had to have passed for him to do that, how much he’d grown to laugh like that- all without Lance) “you shouldn’t say that or else he’s going to do that all the time.”

Lance hummed, his heavy feelings still dampening his mood and not allowing him to converse as he wanted. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

Keith’s smile disappeared. His violet eyes glinted with intelligence. Lance had always felt like Keith was trying to see through him, see what made him tick (he wouldn’t like what he saw). “Are you okay Lance?”

_No, I want it to rain._

_I want to belong._

_I want to not be useless._

_I want affection._

_I want to feel_ wanted _._

Lance smiled. “Uh, yeah? Why, is there something on my face?” He gasped. “Is it eyebags?”

Keith wasn’t swerved and only stared at him for a while. Lance’s smile fell and he sighed. Maybe he could tell Keith. He’s obviously grown and maybe it would help if Lance got it off his chest so he opened his mouth to speak.

“It’s just-“

“Keith!” Krolia’s head peaked out from the Black’s cockpit, a lack of smile on her face. “Yorak is gone!”

Keith looked at his mom, then to the dog next to him, then back to his mother. “I noticed mom!” (He calls her mom, now? It’s probably been a long time that Keith had the ability to hang out with his mother –don’t think about your own mother Lance, don’t!) Keith turned back to Lance with a sheepish smile on his face, “I should be getting back.” Before walking away he said one more thing, “you sure you’re… okay?”

Lance nodded, a wide grin showing just that. “I’m just fine. Go,” he waved Keith off, “spend time with your space mom.”

Keith smiled and Lance couldn’t find it in him to feel upset at his loneliness. “Thanks Lance.”

They parted ways and Lance walked to his lion dragging his feet.

No one seemed to realize that for all Lance liked to talked, he was a bottler. It stemmed from his younger years. As the youngest child he grew up watching his siblings struggle with lack of funds for friends and school and his mother asking his aunts for money for food and the rent. His problems seemed so… minimalistic compared to theirs, so small. So what if he was bullied at school? His sister cried most nights from anxiety (all starting on that night in an alley). So what if he was too stupid to get an A in class? His brother couldn’t even pay for his college classes.

So what if he wasn’t important to the team? Allura and Coran were gone for like a bazillion years, Keith was reconciling with Shiro and his mom, Shiro was _dead-_

(He was dead too. For a while. But he wasn’t important.)

So he bottled. He rambled on and on about all the small things but everything that impacted him he keeps to himself. He thought of it as a bottle of soda. One more thing added made it overflow and one good shake made me explode. It happened with Yupper and the mice-

He knew it wasn’t healthy, but he wasn’t important so what was the point.

There was no point.

Lance had entered Red, moving to lay on the makeshift bed, feeling Kaltenecker next to him who was chewing on the food he had given her this morning. She grunted a sign of acknowledgment. He patted her side. “Nice to see you too girl.” He began to tear up, nose tickling which led to full on sobbing.

He could feel the pain in his chest.

It was still raining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? any prompts y'all want?


	4. It's in Our Biology to Have Chemistry [platonic Lance/everyone]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three times Lance had a thing. 
> 
> [AU where Lance is like super good at chem and bio and just wants some love, like always]
> 
> no warnings and this is just plantonic lance/everyone except allura b/c i didn't want to write her XD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a request for Starluv for some smart lance who was into bio and stuff. I may have delved too much into the science of everything so like sorry for that. I'll probably make another one like this with actual klance and make it focused more on the team than on science but i did this in like a day because i felt inspired!!! (that's also why it's not edited XD)
> 
> ILL MAKE ANOTHER ONE AND ITLL BE AMAZING I PROMISE  
> [also this is like a 9 full pages on word. wow.)

1

Being romped into helping Coran wasn’t an oddity in Lance’s schedule but helping said man without a castle was pretty new. The main job Lance was usually asked (read: forced) to do was cleaning the pods, cleaning the rooms, etc., etc., but without a castle, what could be done?

“Number Three! How nice of you to join me,” Coran greeted Lance with a wide smile, his moustache twitching as it twinkled.

Lance chose not to mention on how he did not volunteer and instead focused his speech on a question: “What exactly am I joining you for? Oh, are we strategizing? Going off to save a planet or two? Finally catch the mice who are _always_ hiding?”

Coran chortled, “nope! We’re checking over the med kits!”

Lance groaned.

“Now, now, Lance.” Coran rested a hand on Lance’s back and led him to his own red lion where one of the said med kits was stored. “It’s a very important job for only those most capable. As you know the castle is gone and with it, the cryopods.” Coran wiped away a tear that Lance couldn’t tell was real or forced. “This means you lot can’t just heal up in just a couple of ticks or vargas. That’s why these med kits are of _the_ upmost importance.”

Lance groaned again, entering his lion with a flourish and only waving tiredly to Kaltenecker. She only mooed and walked her way outside. “But Coran if we already have med kits, what are we even here for?”

Coran pushed against the side of the wall and it clicked. A segment of the wall opened up to reveal a big rectangular box that reminded Lance of the large work box his mechanic uncle had in his garage. Coran opened up the first of its many drawer and pulled out a bottle of liquid and a syringe. “Well, all of these are more than 10,000 years old and with age comes disuse-“

Lance winked. “You’ll always be youthful to me Coran.”

Coran laughed gaudily, “Why of course! ‘Nunville keeps the organs shining’ as my great-grandpabi would say. But back to the subject, we need to make sure everything is in working order.”

Lance nodded and gestured for Coran to give him the objects he had in hand. Once he obtained them he asked, “this is a numbing agent right?”

Coran rubbed his moustache thoughtfully. “Well, this is a first but I am not quite sure. The Altean text on it has rubbed off with age and even then… Cryopods were the main Altean form of healing for a long time and autocuran was never quite my forte.”

“Is autocuran just the Altean way of saying biology?”

“Perhaps. Does biology mean the healing of oneself?”

Lance shrugged his shoulders. “To an extent, yes, but biology, for a direct definition, means the study of life. It’s a big ol’ umbrella for many different fields of study like microbiology, marine biology, study of the human body, medicine… I could go on but biology could mean many different things.”

Lance looked up when Coran didn’t answer straightaway. Coran thought to himself for a second and then asked, “so the liquid you have in your hand… this was a… ‘numbing agent’, did you say?”

Lance shrugged again. “It could be.” He uncapped it and wafted the smell up to his nose. “Smells pretty strong and is meant to be injected by the syringe, obviously, but there’s really no way of knowing what it really is unless I looked at the components of it and the structure of its components.”

Coran’s eyes lit up when he said this. “So if I can help you see the structure then you can tell me what it is?”

“Well, yes, but how could you do that? Is there a like a super magnified space microscope or something-“ Lance watched in frozen fascination as Coran stole the bottle from his hands, moved to the wall (that had so many secrets in it), sprinkled a few drop of the liquid onto its surface and then-

“Woah,” Lance said intelligently as right then, the cockpit of the Red Lion lit up in blue, “a space microscope.” It was like a hologram but Lance could see the bonds between molecules. They laid in the air like huge drops of rain, constantly moving.

Coran shook his head in agreement, “My boy, can you tell me what it is?”

Lance made himself snap out of his amazement and nodded. “I mean, let me start off with the basics. _Carbons are always going to be the backbone in a liquid such as this, you can tell because of the hexagon-looking shape, only two so that’s great, if it had more it’s be more of a cholesterol- as well as the fact that they’re probably going to be found with four different bonds, whether those are separate or a multitude of double bonds. There is also always going to be things branching off of those like carboxyl groups or just an oxygen. Not to mention the fact that there’s branched off nitrogen which are usually seen paired with hydrogen, wow, and those double bonded oxygen? What a thing of beauty, honestly and can you see that_ -“

Coran hated to ruin Lance’s excitement but there was something important needing to be done –not to mention the face that he understood nothing of what the young lad was saying. “Lance, perhaps can you tell if it is a numbing agent?”

Lance nodded. “Yeah sorry. I kinda got carried away for a second there.” He took a deep breath as he focused himself again. “It is an anesthetic _–they more than likely have like a sperm looking shape, honestly- and based on the plethora of bonds, especially the double bonds of carbon to nitrogen, it’s going to be long lasting. You can also see that based on how the two sets of five based carbon are bonded right next to each other. Hydrogen bonds are the weakest but these only a couple and the rest seem to be bonded pretty strongly_.” Noting the confusion on Coran’s face, Lance simplified it down, “In summary it just means it’s going to take a lot of energy to even get this thing to fully break down because it’s so tightly knitted together, even if you have the right enzymes, but since it takes so long to break down, it’ll be long lasting. A bond by bond will break and each bond broken will release energy and there’s a lot of bonds so it’s going to be in someone’s system for a while.”

Coran gazed upon Lance in amazement. “Lance. Where did you learn all this?”

“The Garrison, the place where all of us studied, didn’t only have the space and flight programs.” Lance moved to pull out the next object. “There was the chem and bio course, which had to be taken together since they pretty much are based on the other. They’re intertwined. I, obviously, took the course. Its how I even got a scholarship.” Lance looked pretty sheepish from having admitted the fact.

Coran patted his shoulder. “Well, it’s certainly not useless now, is it? I find it amazing! Now, onto the next one shall we?”

With that Lance smiled giddily, labeling the bottle at hand and pulling out another. Being romped into a job with Coran had never been more fun.

* * *

 

2

The mission was failing. If it couldn’t be told from the horde of Galra chasing after Pidge and Lance, guns blazing, then it was obvious from the screaming erupting from said people’s mouths.

They were almost done with their assignment, the mundane sneak-in, steal info, shoot up a couple of Galra or two on the escape, but someone along the line it seemed that the Galra had been learning. There was more touch based technology, making them expel more time in either hacking in or knocking out a Galra for their hand. Patrols were made more often, scans of every floor ran by the varga, etc, etc.

Lance pulled Pidge into one of the rooms on the side of the hallway when they rounded a corner. He held a hand against her protesting mouth and heard the rumble of feet getting farther and farther. Lance yelped when Pidge pinched his side.

“Don’t ever do that again,” she warned, a dark look on her face. “I don’t know where your hands have been.”

“I’ll have you know these hands are the softest and cleanest you’ll ever touch, Pidgey.” Lance shook his head as he let the banter go. “Anyways, any plans in that big head of yours?”

Pidge deadpanned. “You pulled us into a broom closet. What do you think I can do in here?”

“There’s gotta be something- wait,” Lance began to look around. It was an average size broom closet and shelves with supplies decked the sides. “Do you think the Galra have cleaning supplies?”

Pidge shrugged. “I would think cleaning is universal. Just like violence.”

Lance shook his head, gripping two different bottles in his hands. “I’m going to let that comment slide and just move on. I think I can make something but you need to fully ensure that you’re not breathing outside air. Put your visor all the way down.”

“What? Lance,” Pidge spluttered, “why don’t we just go out there and fight? It’s not that far from Green and we can take them.”

Lance nodded, only looking at Pidge briefly to make sure they both had their visors all the way down. “We could if your arm wasn’t broken-“ he continued despite her protests, “and my head didn’t feel like it has a concussion, but if you have a better plan then I’m all for it.” When she didn’t say anything he nodded again with a smile on his face, “I thought so.”

“You don’t have to sound so smug about it,” Pidge muttered. A silence made its way into the closet, the only sounds being emitted was Lance’s hands tinkering with the materials. Pidge couldn’t help but break the silence, “What are you doing again?”

Lance chuckled, mainly to himself, “no one seems to realize how deadly or useful cleaning items could be. For one thing I could take this bleach and probably that drain cleaner agent and make a toxic hydrochloric acid that would have effects similar to the ones used in the Vietnam War.” Looking at the aghast expression on Pidge’s face he continued, “but that’s some fun for another day. I’m simply gathering some acetone –which is primarily used for cosmetic purposes but is also used for floor primer- and bleach and ice. That’s it.”

“You didn’t answer my question. What are you making? And how do you know all of this? Isn’t it bad to experiment while _on a mission_ -“

Keith’s voice rang throughout their helmets, “Guys, are you heading back yet?”

Pidge glared at Lance as if trying to telepathically tell him she was going to wring every drop of truth out of him. She answered her comm with her glare on him. “Not yet. Ran into some trouble.”

“Trouble?” Worry and concern stained Keith’s tone. “What kind of trouble?”

Lance answered before Pidge could worry the man even further. “It’s nothing Keithy boy. Just wondering when I should come out of the closet.”

“Wha-What does that even mean?”

Lance deadpanned, making Pidge break out into giggles, “Did I fucking stutter?”

Shiro’s voice, right on time, uttered, “language.”

“Sorry Grandpa,” Lance said, pouring the last of the needed liquid into his container. He turned to Pidge, “I need you to activate your bayard.”

“What-“

“Pidge, please.”

She huffed but activated it anyway. She looked at him inquisitively, “what do you need it for?”

He poured a precise amount of two different bottles into a metal tube that he had cut out of the pipe. It had an opening at the end that resembled the ones that he used to have back home to connect to the garden hose; one simple twist of a knob and it would open. He also placed one of the cleaning gloves that were conveniently in the closet over the other end to make sure nothing could escape the other way. “I need to dramatically heat this up. It’ll already be hot since the chemical reaction releases a lot of heat but not enough for the liquid to go into its gas state. I need your bayard to give it a little head boost.”

She nodded. “The electricity from my bayard would heat it up even further. Genius.”

He smiled at her in thanks. “All in a day’s work.” He placed the knob side into the ventilation shaft, knowing the air would circulate into every room on this ship. He twisted it. “And only 60 to 70 percent of this actually turned into choloform so it should be pretty dilutated. Not enough to knock someone out but sure as hell make them uber drowsy. Like they’re drunk.”

“We can see drunk Galra? Sweet.” Their hands met in a fist bump.

Keith’s voice disturbed their bonding moment. “Drunk Galra? What are you guys even doing?”

“Lance made this knockout gas but its not that potent-“ “Hey, it would be if I had more time!” “-and it’ll make everyone super drowsy. So drunk.”

Lance shrugged. “Or super high. Weed makes you sleepy.”

Shiro sighed. “How do you know that Lance?”

“Uh, stories?”

“ _Lance_ -“

“That doesn’t matter!” Everyone stilled at Keith’s sharp tone, but Keith rapidly shifted into his concerned one. “Can you just finish the mission and come back as soon as possible?”

Pidge nodded. “Alright.”

“Aw, Keith. You care.” Lance joyfully said, grabbing Pidge’s unhurt arm to lead them out of the closet.

“ _What_? Of course I-“

Lance cut in, sighing dramatically. “Keith could you not argue with me right now? I’m on a mission.”

“That’s what I-“

“A mission to get out of the closet.”

A chorus of groans. “ _Lance_.”

Pidge was wide-eyed at they walked slowly back to Green. Every Galra they passed seemed like a possessed zombie without the ‘wanting-to-eat-you’ part. She even poked one and they dropped to the floor. “Awesome,” she whispered.

Lance nodded proudly, “I know.”

* * *

 

3

“G-Guys, Coran doesn’t know where we are, we can’t talk to him, we don’t have food or water and pretty soon we’re going to die of oxygen depravity all because we’re stuck in a cave, oh wow, this is not how I thought we were gonna go because realistically speaking this is like 15 feet by 16 feet and we’re six people, there’s no air-“

Lance grabbed Hunk’s hand, pulling him into a hug. “Buddy, buddy. You got to calm down.”

Hunk’s hands shook and he couldn’t catch his breath. “Calm down. Yeah, I do want to be calm before I die.”

Keith who was sitting down sharpening his knife. “He’s right. We’re going to die.”

Lance groaned, “We’re not going to die!” They’ve gone through too much to die here. In fact, that day was supposed to be a relaxed day where they all just went exploring in their casual clothes (hence the fact they didn’t have their helmets to filter air) and bam, attacked by the natives in a cave where a cave in decided to randomly take place.

All in the life of a paladin.

Shiro nodded. “Lance is right.” Lance tried hard to keep an embarrassed smile off his face (his hero praised him!) and listened as Shiro continued, “we just need to think of a way out of here.”

Everyone turned to Hunk and Pidge.

Pidge rolled her eyes. “Pretty sure I can’t hack into rocks to force them to move.”

“But, like: the Balmera,” Lance speculated.

“Lance.” Lance didn’t know who said it but he kept quiet all the same.

Everyone with Pidge this time turned to Hunk.

“Um, really there’s like no way.” Hunk scratched his scalp and Lance grabbed the hand before he could dig in deep. “Even with the capabilities of our bayards there’s no feasible way to break out of here safely without, ya know, being crushed with rocks.”

Keith was the one to break the silence. “We’re all going to die.”

Lance threw a small rock at Keith, smiling in satisfaction as it landed right on his temple (way to go sharpshooter), “stop being such a downer Keith.”

“Lance, don’t throw rocks.”

“Sorry _dad_.”

“Lance.”

“Oh yeah, sorry _Grandpa_.”

Hunk shakenly asked, “how are y-you guys so calm? We’re wasting air that we really need to live.”

Pidge rolled her eyes. “Dying was already in the plan Hunk. Might as well speed it up. You said we only had six hours Hunk. And that was six hours ago. Time’s a ’wasting”

“Moving past those suicidal tendencies-“ “You’re one to talk Lance.” “-she’s right. There’s going to be no more oxygen left really soon.”

“Why can’t we just make more?” Hunk whined.

Keith scoffed. “Yeah, we obviously can just make it appear. With magic.”

Pidge slumped against the rocks. “Hope I can hack heaven when I get there.”

“Make air, make air,” Lance muttered. He thought for a moment then jumped up only for his head to hit the very low ceiling. “Ow, but guys! We can make air!”

A silence. “He’s gone mad,” Pidge stated.

Lance fervently shook his head. “All of you, take out your first aid kits.” When no one moved he yelled, “now!”

Once they all passed him their kits Lance opened each one individually, pulling out a bottle of clear liquid and the tablets they used to neutralize water to be able to drink it. Lance held them up for the others to see and kissed it. “Yes! Thank you Coran!” Coran was the one who forced them to carry around these smaller sized kits everywhere.

Pidge shook her head. “Why are you so happy about some bottle and the water tablets?”

Lance grinned maniacally. “Because now I can make a carbon dioxide scrubber.”

Hunk gaped. “Woah. Bro. You can do that?”

Lance grinned. “Bro, you doubt me too much.” And he could, he just needed a couple more things for the setup.

Shiro sent Lance a small encouraging smile (another smile! At Lance! He fangirled on the inside.) and asked, “How exactly are you going to do that?”

Lance looked around at everything they had. “Right. I need someone’s sock, probably not Pidge’s, she has small feet. Don’t give me that look Pidge, you’re small, get over it. I also need both of Keith’s shoes.”

Keith gave him a look of horror as he clutched his knees to his chest, looking like he was trying to get his shoes as far as he could from Lance. “What? Why?”

“I need something that can hold a liquid while also having a gap so the air can get through. Your shoes have that slit in the middle if I’m not mistaken. The black part are just leggings, right?” Don’t ask why Lance noticed these things about Keith. They were about to die and he could worry about it later.

Keith hesitatingly nodded. “Yeah but why-“

“Why two?” Lance gestured for Keith to hand him his shoes and Keith did it with a sad sigh. “I need one to hold the liquid as I pour and the other to keep the hydrogen peroxide from going into the floor so I can use it again.”

Pidge gasped. “Like having water in one cup and then pouring it into another and then doing that vice versa again and again-“

“You’d have an unlimited supply of the… liquid so, like, the stuff in the bottle.” Hunk ended his statement like a question. “What _is_ in the bottle?”

As Lance put his own sock over one of Keith’s shoes he explained, “Hydrogen peroxide- or like, the alien equivalent. A while ago I helped Coran label all the stuff in the meds kits and this happened to be one of them. The tablets, when I looked at them further with Coran, had a lot of sodium hypochlorite. It’s something that’s in bleach, pools.” He paused what he was doing to look at their confused faces. “It cleans stuff.”

“Ooooh.”

“So when these two come into contact, a chemical reaction ensues. Products are going to be salt and water, obviously, but the main product is going to be oxygen. Just what we want” Lance looked up after his spiel but only saw his teammates staring at him with surprised expressions. After a moment of silence he asked, “Guys, you okay?”

Shiro was the first to shake himself out of shock. “Lance… how do you know all of this?”

Lance shrugged. “It’s really nothing. Helping Coran is actually reaping some benefits.” He laughed but awkwardly stopped when no one was laughing with him.

“Bullshit –and yes, Shiro, language- but really Lance? You literally drugged an entire ship full of Galra-“

“Right place, right time with the right materials.”

“Lance!” Keith yelled. “Can you take a goddamn compliment?” He was breathing heavily, though whether that was from a lack of air or stemmed from anger, Lance had no clue. “This is amazing and we just want to know how you know.”

Lance couldn’t meet their eyes, embarrassment clouding his features. He said the reason why under his breath.

Keith huffed. “Louder Lance.”

Lance chose the move past Pidge’s ‘the first we’ll ever ask you to speak louder’ and said, “the only I got a scholarship to the Garrison was for science, all right?”

Hunk nodded slowly. “I think I remember seeing chem on your schedule.”

Lance shook his head. “I was taking bio, practical chem, theoretical chem, human anatomy- I think you guys get it. I was good at it.”

Keith still looked confused. “Why are you acting like that’s a bad thing? It helped you pay the Garrison fee.”

“… They gave me a full ride.”

Pidge screeched, “then why are you complaining?” She quickly became regretful for yelling as Lance looked away in shame.

Lance sighed, twiddling with the tablets in his hand before he moved to crush them. The more surface area available to react, the better. “It’s just… I wanted to fly so I pursued it yet I only ended up being a lame _cargo_ pilot. The one thing I wanted to do, I wasn’t good at and something that I didn’t want to end up doing was all anyone every expected out of me. I just- people expect you to just be one thing or be good at one thing. People only saw me for this.” He held up his finished contraption, a shoe with a sock over the top; the only thing left for it to work was to pour the hydrogen peroxide over the crushed tablets that laid over the sock.

“You know,” Shiro started, gesturing to his arm, “nowadays people look at me and see a cripple.”

Lance winced, he didn’t want to seem so ungrateful for his prowess in a subject (or rather, it seemed stupid now to compare his pain to Shiro’s). “Shit, Shiro, I-“

“Language,” Shiro stated with a playful grin. Lance looked shocked at the sight of it. “It’s true though. People do tend to label everything and that goes toward other people as well. I don’t see it stopping anytime soon, but don’t let it affect you. The people that matter are the people who will notice your many labels.” He made a general hand gesture to everyone. “I’m a cripple.”

“Hacker.”

“Builder.”

“Loner.”

“…Goofball.”

Hunk nodded. “And everyone here knows you’re more than all that. In fact, I could use this. I love a good metaphor. You’re a lover, a friend, a brother, an uncle, a goofball, a softie, a badass, a-”

“Hunk!” Lance yelled, a blush staining his cheeks.

Lance turned to Hunk, all semblance of panicky Hunk now gone. Hunk smiled reassuringly at him, “I notice all your labels bro.”

“ _Bro_.”

“Bro.”

“Broooo-“

Pidge gasped suddenly. “A-As much as I love bonding time-“ She coughed, air seeming so thin all of a sudden.

Shiro nodded. “Lance,” his voice seemed so small, “hurry it up please.”

Lance nodded. “Right, sorry.” And he poured the hydrogen peroxide. Immediately the pieces of the tablet began to sizzle, becoming smaller in size until finally all the liquid broke it down. Lance took in a deep breath of the new air, not knowing how much he needed it until that moment.

Pidge look startled. “Holy shit. It worked.” Shiro didn’t have the heart to reprimand her.

Lance nodded, moving to place the sock on the empty shoe, adding new pieces of another tablet on it. “Of course it did.”

Keith look amazed as well, breathing in long and deep (Lance did not stare at his gulping neck, nope). His violet eyes cut into Lance as they gazed upon him in wonder. “It worked.”

Lance blushed despite himself but exclaimed, “was there no faith?”

“Nope,” Pidge popped the ‘p’.

* * *

 

3 and a half

Allura and Coran found them there a couple of vargas later after using the blue lion to freeze the rocks besides them and break in one strike, allowing them to hopefully leave their imprisonment unscathed. Their faces were wrung with worry, eyes frantic, but it quickly turned into relief and confusion as they found the paladins smiling, no worry marring their faces.

Though there wasn’t a doubt that Lance’s smile was the biggest of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO not trust any of my science alright??? I mean, most of the terms were actually real and like the methods and I had to do a lot of research cuz yo gurl is kinda dumb (taking chem H and AP Bio did not help) so don’t trust me. Don’t try any of this at home please because 1) it won’t work and 2) playing with cleaning items is actually really dangerous, please don’t.  
> And of course I had to end it with a team bonding moment. I can’t help it. I love the ‘team loves Lance’ tag.  
> I love the ‘love lance’ tag in general omg
> 
> P.S. if you've read this far or even read this at all... it's my birthday :)


	5. Give Him The Ball, Keith [klance]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were no other words for it. He was flying. Hands and arms formed into a bow and arrow after he jumped right at the last possible part for the serve line to which he swung away.
> 
> Keith caught it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this just a little short thingy about volleyball player lance because i am in love with that omggggg imagine those long legs in spandex shorts oooooo boi
> 
> it is also klance because i cant help myself   
> me: make a shance, you like shance  
> also me: change it to klance, klance is canon king
> 
> but oh well, please enjoy and sorry it was not long

“Why would I even want to watch some,” he struggled to find the right word that wasn’t quite so negative but he settled on, “stupid game?”

Shiro sighed heavily through his nose, his scar wrinkling in disappointment. Keith had to look away before he could cave in. “Now, Keith-“

“Don’t make me feel guilty. Plus, I don’t even know the guy!” Keith huffed, making sure to look away into the Shiro-less distance.

Shiro shrugged in acknowledgment. “That’s fair.” Keith smiled but it quickly left once Shiro continued. “But what’s not fair is calling Lance’s sport boring-“

“It is!”

“-meaningless-“

“It’s literally an intense game of don’t let the balloon hit the floor!”

“and pointless.”

Keith sheepishly nodded at the last one. “That one was a just a pun because how can volleyball be pointless when the whole _point_ is to get points.” Don’t judge Keith for laughing at his own jokes; they’re funny.

Shiro gave him a stern look. “Keith.”

“Shiro.” _Don’t make eye contact. Don’t make eye contact._

“Keith.”

“Stop looking at me like that!”

“ _Keith_.”

Keith grunted, “Fine! Just- stop giving me that look.”

“What look?” Shiro could try to hide it all he wanted with mock confusion but Keith knew that he knew exactly what kind of look.”

Keith groaned, getting up out of his seat to make his way to the gym. “Let’s just go.” Keith stated, already walking away.

Shiro hurriedly stood up, “Keith! Wait, seriously, what look?”

Keith ignored Shiro’s questions (or rather, ignored Shiro) right until they got to the doors of the school gymnasium. “We’re going in. I better not die of boredom Shiro.”

Shiro shook his head, following right behind Keith into the school gym. What he wasn’t prepared for was to run into a gaping Keith who stopped moving. “Why did you- oh.”

‘Oh’ couldn’t be more right, Keith thought.

Lance was serving. Keith wondered what had changed from the Lance who could barely underhand serve back in middle school (how Keith still remembered when they weren’t even friends was the question) to this- this-

There were no other words for it. He was flying. Hands and arms formed into a bow and arrow after he jumped right at the last possible part for the serve line to which he swung away.

If it were any other serve, it would have been passed. It had landed right into the lap of the other team’s libero but the spin and power was so intense that it bounced off their platform right towards the onlookers.

Keith caught it.

“Aaaaaaccccccceeeeee!” Lance’s team called out, hands pumping the air as they formed a quick huddle then went back to their positions. Lance himself smiled and then turned to where the ball was.

The ball that Keith still had in his hands.

Shiro nudged Keith’s shoulder. “You should probably give that to him.”

Keith just stood slack jawed and still, mind not comprehending that words were even leaving Shiro’s mouth.

Lance jogged lightly to where Keith (the ball) stood and smiled. _Oh lord those arms._ “Um, could I have that ball Keith?” _Oh shit, he knows my name._

It might’ve been weird on how Keith’s view of Lance had gone from negative to oh so positive but everyone knew Keith had a type. A type filled with strong arms, broad shoulders, tall, athletic, _could probably hold him up as he fucked him oh my god-_ Keith rapidly shook his head out of his thoughts, “uh, yeah, course.”

Lance sent him another grin with those wide blue eyes -oh shit- and then Keith watched him -that ass- as he walked away. _Thank Jesus for tight shorts in volleyball._

The game was won easily. They had been in their second and last set seeing as they had won the first one. The ending score was 25-14, most points earned for Lance’s team having come from Lance himself.

It was mesmerizing and Keith was in love… _with that ass_.

“So… boring, huh?”

“ _Shut up_ Shiro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i regret everything and nothing. also i have not had the opportunity to write as I've been missing my charger and my schedule has been packed. I'll be back on my sort of schedule now so thank you for your patience.


	6. It's A Movie for the Children [just lance]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance can sing, but doesn't like singing for the team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going somewhere with this, like a 'wow lance can sing, everyone praise him and think he's hot' and like yeah, i'll stan that but then it turned into this and idk man. its short and has no purpose. 
> 
> warnings? no warnings. just a little langst (with a hint of lance still being affected by kuron/shiro. i think i might delve further into that another time. idk)
> 
> enjoy!

Lance shifted in his seat, bottom growing sore from the amount of time it had been plastered to the harsh, unyielding metal. _You think they’d have put soft cushiony but no, they put these death beds instead,_ thought Lance. He had grown bored of just nonchalantly flying through space approximately five hours ago (or, for the aliens tuning in, five vargas).

He began to hum a song from the children’s movie, _Thumbelina._ For context’s sake, it was a simplistic, a bit on the material side of a movie, but it was his niece’s favorite at the moment so of course he had endure it, if only to watch her sing along to the songs in their video chats.

He thought about it. Often.

Lance would stare into space (literally, space) and contemplate the life his family now had without him. Maybe they had a funeral without his body or perhaps, with a body if the Garrison just gave them a random ol’ skeleton. The ones at Party City were pretty believable. All morose thoughts aside, his nephew was probably rocking the soccer field, his niece graduating from pre-school (parents were finding more and more things to congratulate nowadays). His brother Marco might have found a cute girl to fully and finally settle down with, his brother Luis navigating his way through college, and his sister Veronica was most likely nursing her new born baby.

The baby he might never get to meet.

The memories he’d never get to share.

Lance hummed a little louder, the sounds now forming words “… _show you a world of wondrous things..._ ”

_His niece puffed his cheeks in slight irritation, looking anyway than at him, “Why do I have to sing the girl parts, Tio?”_

_Lance chuckled, fixing his laptop so that the camera could fully capture his face and the microphone (read: hairbrush) he was previously singing into, “What’s wrong with the girl parts?”_

_She rolled her eyes, “she only sings…” she counted on her fingers and Lance couldn’t help but to find that the cutest thing in the world, “like 10 words!”_

_Lance hummed, lips never losing a smile, “but she’s small, like you.”_

_His niece slightly nodded, “I guess.”_

_“And she sings well, like you.”_

_“Uh huh.” A more assured nod._

_“And, she’s beautiful, like you.” Lance chuckled when she grinned widely, as if her being beautiful was ever a question._

_“So I have to be her!” She screamed, bouncing around on her bed, the view of her shaking around with it. She paused suddenly, seriously, and pressed her face right against the camera. “But I still want a sword.”_

_He laughed, loud and open. “Of course, your highness.”_

Lance gulped heavily, throat dry and arms sagging in sadness of the memory of their last video chat.  Despite his clogged throat, his voice came out clear, “ _let me be your only love,”_ he carried the last note a little longer than it was in the song, but no one was listening, and honestly, he was just letting it flow _, “let me take you far beyond the stars.”_

 _“Anything that we desire, anything at all.”_ He paused, a sniffle making its way unintendedly into the song. It wasn’t the song that really meant something, in fact, the song lyrics meant nothing to him. It was everything that came with it: the dance sessions with his nieces and nephews, the way it played throughout dinner because somebody couldn’t bring himself to turn it off, the way it brought a smile to his niece’s face from he tossed her into the air. He sang loudly from his chest, _“Every day I’ll take you higher...”_

He could feel it so hard; he choked on the words, _“and… I’ll never let you fall.”_ Somehow, he ended up singing the last phrase so softly it could have passed as a whisper. He felt the stinging of his eyes and closed them before tears could well up. He even let go of the controls, hugging his knees to his chest, and letting Red fly all on her own (because she really didn’t need him anyway, but that was a thought for another time).

A loud ‘ _achoo!_ ’ following by a ‘ _clank!_ ’ resounded throughout the cockpit; Lance immediately sprang up and looked for the source only to sit back down when he realized it came from the comms. It might’ve been Pidge tinkering with something or Keith with his space wolf or-

 _Holy moly, the comms are on_! Lance brought up the video of everyone and was stunned to see them all with sheepish looks upon their faces. He questioned them slowly, “did you guys… hear all that?”

Pidge groaned, the first to comment because of course she was, “goddamnit Hunk! You just had to give us away!”

“I’m sorry, jeez, I had to sneeze!”

“But right then?” she questioned.

“I can’t control what goes on in my nasal passages!”

“Guys!” Lance shook himself, not willing to even comment on Hunk’s statement. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” He was a bit angry to tell the truth. He’d never really had reasons to be spiteful at his team before, but now, he could feel that anger rising up in his chest. That was a private moment and they had no right to be snooping on him.

Shiro’s voice rang through the video in a placating manner, “Lance, we only just going to notify you that we’d be landing soon. We were going to tell you but I think your singing caught us all just a bit off guard.”

Like all things, Shiro’s voice and words never failed to make him feel that all his feelings and thoughts beforehand were useless and he himself was an idiot for having been like that. The angry words he had been about to omit dissolved in his mouth and it tasted like something sour, something a bit like shame. “Yeah, okay…”

“Though, I have to say Lance,” Allura was smiling from her seat, Romelle standing beside her, “you have a marvelous voice. You have no reason to be shy from using it. I, myself, quite enjoyed the performance and wouldn’t mind another one.” She didn’t end it as a question, firmly believing he was going to start singing right then and there, but after an awkward pause she cleared her throat, “I believe we’re arriving at the planet now. Perhaps then, Lance, you’d feel more open to doing a repeat performance.”

He didn’t feel open to it and it wasn’t due to stage jitters or anything like that. It was the fact that he had only sung to family. Whether it was over video chats or swinging his mom around the kitchen belching out Marc Anthony songs, he had done it all with family. The only people.

Yes, these were the people closest to him out in space but they weren’t family. They were too many holes, too many blanks that Lance couldn’t bring himself to share everything.

He would give his life for them but for some reason it felt like he just didn’t fit.

Cliques were formed, alliances were made all without anyone realizing, but it wasn’t family, at least, not to Lance.

Or maybe Lance was scared. Scared that in some way he’d betray his actual family by giving every single part of him up, he’d have nothing left for them. Scared he could live without them.

Scared he could want to live without them.

They made camp on the planet. Lance didn’t sing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah, if you made it through, congrats. and yes, i had just watched thumbelina with my family, dont judge me. 
> 
> um, sorry this is short and so late and not like my previous schedule. i could tell you it was cause i got really sick and went to the er and urgent care and was knocked up on meds and pain killers beCAUSE I ALSO HAPPENED TO GET MY PERIOD AT THE SAME TIME BUT i am calm. calm. i could tell you that and yeah, it's true, but i was also kinda being lazy and super uninspirered so. blame is on me bois. on me.
> 
> .......
> 
> also season 7 has my ass and my heart. they better have some good lance moments or i swear i'll-
> 
> ......
> 
> also also, i might put a sequel of this where my boy lance is put into a dire situation where he is forced to sing but idk. maybe if yall ask for it but you probably dont,
> 
> is anyone even reading this lmao


	7. There was no reason to stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His hands stopped shaking and a part of him –minuscule but convincing- wanted to feel that one teeny tiny second of peace again. Just one more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you go ahead, there are trigger warnings: cutting, attempted suicide, mentions of prostitution, verbal abuse, neglect, depression, emptiness, therapy  
> yeah, i had to make an angsty lance before the new season came out (bish, im so fucking excited, y'all don't even know. I always stay at till midnight and then binge the entire fucking season. i ain't sleeping tonight boissss)  
> but yes, this is about lance attempting suicide and failing and not at all about me projecting. okay? okay.  
> enjoy.

“Lance-Lance, are you listening to me?” An irritated voice snapped Lance out of his daze. He couldn’t quite help zoning out though; the sessions were so boring and the clouds (his thoughts) were much more mind-encompassing. Besides, therapy forced onto him by the state was always filled with the repeat phrases all said by therapists who only cared for the pay at the end of the week.

“Yeah,” Lance sighed. “I’m listening.”

His therapist huffed slightly then moved to plaster a tired smile onto her face. “Then could you tell me why?”

“Why what?” He felt a pang of glee in his chest as the therapist grit her teeth. He obviously had not been paying her any attention and her thinking otherwise was laughable.

She put forth her energy in riffling his file that was placed on her lap. “We’ve been talking –or rather, I’ve been talking- and I feel it is time to broach the topic of concern. It says here that you tried to commit suicide. Lance, you slit one of your wrists but passed out from blood loss before you could most likely do the other.”

He hummed quietly, watching the birds perch on the branch outside the window.

“Lance,” she said slowly, like he was just a stupid five year old child playing some kind of prank, “you’re only twelve. You have your whole _life_ ahead of you; why’d you do it?”

His chest felt heavy. The words were there but moving his lips would take so much energy and time. It wasn’t worth anything.

But he thought. He thought of his mother’s face as she finally saved enough money to buy herself a nice purse yet sold it not even a week later as they had to eat. He watched as she arrived home late at night, a hand massaging her sore shoulder and dried tears plastered her cheeks.

He watched as no one said anything to the missing razor in the bathroom; he watched as no one paid heed to the experimental swipes on his thighs.

He watched as his sister slept through the entire day since she worked the streets at night.

He watched and waited for someone to say something. They didn’t.

His therapist shifted in her seat. “We’ll talk about it another time then. How about this? Where did you learn to cut Lance? Online? Family?”

He looked into soft brown eyes and thought about it. When did he find out about it? It was probably when he walked past his sisters’ room and-

_“-and I just felt really bad- like I couldn’t understand why someone would do that, ya know?” Veronica stated, a hand on her chest as if to protect her heart from such impure thoughts._

_Rosa nodded in understanding. “I never really understood why people cut either. Like imagine taking a knife to your wrist- oh god, don’t even imagine it. It’s gross. Why give yourself pain if you’re already in pain?”_

And then the eavesdropping, young, and impressionable Lance ran away to his own room to think.

He thought and thought and thought and by the next week the blade kissed his skin.

His therapist’s leg began to bounce. “Did you do it as a self-punishment of some sort, Lance?”

_He stood there in the shower feeling the water fall onto his skin like rain. Even with its pleasantness his heart still raced and his hands shook as it held the cheap, pink razor. Its metal glinted in the artificial yellow light._

_Was he really about to do this? He questioned himself then but his hands moved despite his uncertainty (or perhaps they knew what his mind had decided the moment he stole the razor from his mother.)_

_He dragged the razor across his skin and watched as the skin did not break. It only became red and slightly raised from irritation._

_He didn’t do it right (like everything else). So he tried again._

_This time he pressed it in harder, at more of an angle. It didn’t sting much as it cut and no blood instantly appeared. The left side of his hip looked completely unharmed._

_For that second it was painless and white._

_And then the hot water ran over it._

_Lance yelped, slipping slightly in the tub until he grabbed the rack to stabilize itself. Blood began to flow, dripping from the cut as the water came onto it with a vengeance, dragging it down his legs and into the drain below._

_He watched the watered blood slide down his leg._

_His hands stopped shaking and a part of him –minuscule but convincing- wanted to feel that one teeny tiny second of peace again. Just one more._

Just one more. Lance gulped audibly as his nails dug into the meat of his thighs.

“This pain you have Lance, this need to hurt yourself could get better if you just talk about it.” She was at the end of her rope, he could tell. “So just tell me one thing- just one.”

Lance dragged his gaze over to her, chest heavy (with everyone he couldn’t say) and confessed, “I’m too tired.”

“Lance,” she pleaded.

Luckily for her, he had many things to say.

Sadly for her, he just didn’t have enough energy to say them.

* * *

 

His family doctor was the most sympathetic and helpful person on the planet. Every health concern Lance had gone through was met with genuine concern and the eagerness to help.

This, however, was a different check-up.

“Lance, would you like your mother to leave the room?” His doctor’s voice matched his skin: a nice creamy baritone that was slightly rough. His mother was the only other one in the medical room, sitting in the chair that was always placed next to the patient bed. He opened his mouth to speak when his mother intervened.

“What does he have to hide?” Lance’s mother’s statement was made unmaliciously but Lance flinched all the same. “I’m his mother; it’s my job to know everything.”

The doctor nodded sympathetically. “I know, Maria. But I do have to ask Lance.”

“Well, then Lance. Tell him.” She gave him an expectant, standing tall thinking she knew his answer.

“Mami,” he asked softly, slumping into himself, “can you go outside? _Por favor?_ ” (Please?)

Her brows furrowed in hurt and confusion, looking over at him. She must have found what she wanted (or what she didn’t want) since she grabbed her purse and made her way outside. “I’ll be in the lobby Lance.”

It was short and curt and precise and _she left without saying I love you_.

She didn’t say _I love you_.

He swallowed back his bile and steadied his breathing (how’d it get so fast). His nails raked against his skin causing red lines to appear.

_-red, red, red. They say blood is red but, when filled with oxygen, it’s blue. It’s blue and vibrant, but when exposed to the air or really, is empty, it’s red. It’s red and red and red and maybe that’s why Lance liked red sometimes because it was_

_It was empty_

_Like him-_

“Lance, now that your mother is gone, I need to ask you a few questions.” His doctor continued when Lance nodded his head.

Lance is going to be honest. He lost himself when answering those questions. If asked what they were he couldn’t exactly tell; he just remembered the feeling of just…hearing and answering. He was still wrapped up in red. Always red.

_‘Bad. I always feel bad.’_

_‘No, they don’t hurt me.’_

_‘Emotional abuse?’_

_‘I… I don’t-“_

_‘I can’t- It’s not that.’_

_‘It’s not even on purpose! They don’t emotionally… emotionally abuse me. I’m just- I’m just weak.’_

Lance snapped back to reality as caramel hands gripped his own, placing a napkin softly into them. “Lance, I need you to calm down. You’re hurting yourself.” Lance looked down into his lap to see _red_ dripping down from the cuts Lance made with his nails. He quickly wiped it off with the napkin then shoved his hands into his armpits as if to hide them from view.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Lance,” the doctor meant well but he needn’t speak to him as if Lance was a child (everyone, _everyone_ spoke to him, treated him as if he was still five years old), “is therapy not working?”

Lance still stared at the drying blood (not a lot- not like _that_ time- that time everything just _felt_ so _deep_ ). “No.” And in a small moment of weakness (or maybe just a moment where he knew he needed help) he admitted in a whisper, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

The doctor shook his head, “Nothing is wrong with you Lance.”

Lance couldn’t help it. Everyone told him that, but if that was true then why couldn’t he believe it? He knew, he knew he needed to talk about it. Keeping it to himself was selfish to his family. He saw how they second guessed every interaction with him, treating him like a stranger they never knew. Maybe they didn’t. “It’s a high.”

“What?”

“It’s a high,” he repeated. “A period that I feel great. The feeling that I’m funny and good looking and fine just the way I am. A time where I’m grateful for everything I have.”

“You call this a ‘high’?” The doctor asked, listening intently. This was the first time Lance had spoken to anyone about this.

“Yeah,” he choked on emotion, thoughts spilling out with a vengeance. “And then it’s gone and I’ve fallen into feeling completely like shit. There’s no reason for it, nothing has to happen for me to feel sad it just comes and I’m left overflowing with so much emotion that I’m empty. It makes no sense and I can never stop it.” Lance took the time to make eye contact with his doctor. “Nobody wants to tell me what’s wrong with me. They just give me looks because they know I’m messed up.”

“That’s what we’re here to figure out Lance.” His doctor came to sit beside him, not touching, but there. “But no matter what we find or if we find anything at all, you need to know you’re fine just the way you are. You’re not broken Lance.”

Then why did everyone act like he was?

* * *

 

So far the topic had not been broached at all. What he did should be common knowledge; his family was filled with gossip led by the gossipers (the gossipers were everyone). It’s how they all knew who was with who, who got sick, who’s pregnant and so on and so forth.

And yet most of his close family had sat down at the dinner table for Thanksgiving -the table covered with mouthwatering food-  and sat down with regular everyday conversation to which Lance couldn’t help but smile slightly and dig in with a weight lifted off his chest. It was nice. Lance relaxed further into his chair.

“-and Lance is going off again to the Garrison,” his mother stated with a wide grin. “We’re all very proud.”

That was it. Lance’s heart was going to beat out of his chest from happiness. It was one thing to assume what someone felt and it was another to hear. He could feel his cheeks become pained as they were stretched from the widest grin Lance had had in a while. It was so nice, like sunshine pouring into his stomach and-

“ _Y por que vas a dejarlo ir_?” (And why are you letting him go?) His grandma piped in from the head of the table, looking down on him and making his good mood dissipate. “For all we know he could be waiting to take his life. _Este tiempo nadien lo van a salvar._ ” (This time no one will save him.)

“ _Madre! No sabes nada sobre eso!_ ” (Mother! You know nothing about that!) Lance turned to see his mom shoot his grandma a scathing glare to his grandma who did not look sorry for her comment.  It hurt to see her this way; not because it was out of the norm, no, it was stemmed from the fact that it was the norm. “And even then, you know it wasn’t his fault! It was how his body was made-“

“So it’s your fault?” His grandma sat even further upright with hautiness.

His mom bit her tongue, guilt becoming clear. Lance didn’t know how to diffuse the tension or even help his mom with her mixed feelings.

“ _Nada esta malo con su cuerpo Lance. Es su culpa que eres muy sensitive y delicado. No eres un hombre, Lance? Ya no eres tan joven, no tienes ninguna disculpa por sus acciones_.” (Nothing is wrong with your body, Lance. It’s your fault for being so sensitive and delicate. Aren’t you a man, Lance? You’re no longer so yound, you don’t have even one excuse for your actions.) His abuela looked at him, eyes filled with pity and disgust.

“You’re wrong. It is not his fault; it’s all of ours,” Veronica piped in from beside him, tone aggressive and hostile. “It also not a surprise that you treat this so lightly. You’re one of the people who are dragging him into the grave meant for you.”

Lance’s mom gasped, for even if the elder was rude and pompous and disgusting, they were still an elder. “Veronica. _Pidale perdon ahorita_.” (Ask for her forgiveness now.)

His grandma simply waved it off with a brittle, wrinkled hand. “ _No, no_ , _esta bien. No es una sorpriesa que su nina se abre la boca como se abre los pies_.” (No, no, it’s okay. It’s not a surprise that your daughter opens her mouth like she opens her legs.)

His mother did not raise her voice nor did she rise from her chair in anger; however she did breathe heavily through her nose. When she did speak, she spoke darkly, “ _Allargate de mi casa. Nunca mas te quiero aqui. Puedes hablar asi a me pero no a mis ninos. Este tiempo no me quedare en silencio. Allargate ya_.”  (Get out of my house.  I never want you here anymore. You can talk to me like that but not my children. This time I will not stay silent. Get out already.)

Lance could grin at the aghast expression etched on his grandma’s face. She looked so taken aback that she could have fallen off the chair. “ _Que? Que me dijiste?_ ” (What? What did you say to me?)

“Get out of my house and never come back.” His abuela stood up on shaky legs, looking more like a fragile old woman than ever before. She paused in her rising, looking to his mother as if she would change her mind.

If there was one thing Lance knows about his mom is that she is steadfast and stubborn in her beliefs.

“ _Afuera de aqui_!” And when his grandma slammed the front door in her hurry that was when Lance too heed of the silence that had taken over the rest of the family. _It’s my fault, I caused the fight. I broke apart the family, oh dios_ (oh god)-

Lance felt stunned when the entire family began to cheer.

“Finally! _Al fin_!”

“Way to go Maria!”

“The wicked witch of Cuba has been taken down!”

“Wow Mom, you’re badass!” (That was the only moment Mama ever let a cuss word slide. It was a time for celebration.)

Lance, however, was silent.

His family defended him. His family _defended_ him. There was a time when Lance believed he didn’t matter, but here, at that moment, when he could feel the laughter ring through the small dining room and the love so thick in the air it made it hard to breathe, he knew.

Maybe he still had bad days. Maybe he did need to work further through this. Maybe these feelings would never go away.

Maybe that was all true, but he knew he wasn’t alone now. He had his family there to drag him out of the grave and into the light.

He felt secured as he knew he had reasons to stay.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you cry? i probably didn't make anyone cry. i teared up though. i projected so fucking hard dudes.  
> (and no one is gonna cry cuz no one reads this lmaoooo)  
> i also going to be doing a second part to this as, obviously, his family isn't in space so he lost that. idk bois, he could regress back to these feelings. if yall wanna read that let me know.  
> and if my writing suck please tell me. i really want some feedback.
> 
> BUT NOTHING CAN BRING ME DOWN. A NEW SEASON BABYYYYYY. MY BOI LANCE BETTER FUCKING SHINEEEEE


	8. What Love is Supposed to Feel Like [Lance/Keith, past Lance/Allura, one-sided Lance/Allura]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance reminiscing about love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No triggers this time, just lance thinking about allura and keith and how they make him feel.  
> unedited

He watched the second hand.

Its small movements shouldn’t have dictated all of his attention, but something about it resonated in his bones. His weary, tired (so tired, even the thought of moving would have made him sign in displeasure, however, even sighing felt like so _much_ ) bones made no motion to move and he didn’t _want_ them to. He could feel every tick from the tip of his fingers to the dip in his toes, the slow pumping of his blood from his heart to everything else.

The pressure on his chest felt so _heavy_ , sinking him down into the worn mattress, eyes needing to slide shut from the lack of breathing.

There was no reason for it; there never had to be one to feel so empty. It just was. The ticks were really everything that mattered…

238, 239, _240…_

_‘2:40’ the clock read. He stood there, arms wrapped around the princess, feeling her tears falling into the nape of his neck and below yet the only thing he wanted to focus on was the time._

_‘2:41’_

_He stood there, waiting for the princess to let go of all the hurt and sorrow that had erupted from deception. He held her as she shook off the remains of lost love, an outstretched hand seemingly ripped at the joint. He waited for all her tears to run on empty (empty,_ empty _, empty), to watch her let go of the ties she had knotted with her own hands –and lips._

_‘2:42’_

_He_ had _wondered_ , then, _if he could do the same_ _._

243, 244, _245…_

_And he made to move away as he had always done before, knowing by now that a reply was never in the cards. Acknowledgment, yes, and a measure of thanks accompanied the pain she unknowingly (or perhaps knowingly but necessary as she could not reciprocate) handed him. He made for the exit, needing to let go on his own, to shake off her claim on his limbs, his heart. He needed to-_

_Then, at that moment, Keith popped out on a screen, looking as doggedly determined as ever. Lance broke out into a wide grin, slipping quickly out of Allura’s grasp to call out his name._

_Lance wondered later, in the privacy of his lion, why smiling then had felt so easy._

Lance moved his eyes away from the clock, the feeling of time changing so quickly did not settle the way it should in his stomach. It wasn’t bad, per se, more like a river eroding his veins until one day a canyon was formed. He never felt it get like that, or rather, he felt it but didn’t understand it at the time.

It was different than the feelings he had for Allura.

Allura was like a paradise tucked away in a jungle, a peaceful pond with willows hanging off the edge. Beautiful, until you slipped in and leeches were plastered all over your skin, sucking and sucking down to the last drop.

He gave her everything without even realizing and for a while presumed that to be the way love works. Giving and giving continuously for the moment it was finally reciprocated.

And maybe, it was that time, just a bit, if that look was anything to go by…

_He made to move away, finding his back turned to her more often than not nowadays. That was fine; it was hurting less and less-_

_“Lance!” He turned to see Allura with a bashful look on her face, cheeks quickly burning a soft pink. He didn’t answer out of shock. Allura? Blushing?_

_She continued, shifting her gaze from the floor to him, and said gently, “Stay safe.”_

_He blinked twice and then shook his head to snap out of his daze. “Y-Yeah. You too, Princess.”_

Why would she do that? Didn't she know it was too late to reciprocate? Didn't she know he was finally moving on? Why would she do that? To hurt him? He had left, learned that some possibilities are not meant to be, or even the fact that it wasn’t right for _him_. He gave everything, hell, he gave his life, only to be chosen as- as- a _rebound_.

And then as quickly as the anger appeared, it left him in the wispy form of a sigh.

It wasn’t her fault. It was him for mistaking feelings of admiration for those of love.

Because what he felt for Allura wasn’t love, but what he felt for…

_Then, at that moment, Keith popped out on a screen, looking as doggedly determined as ever. Lance broke out into a wide grin, slipping quickly out of Allura’s grasp to call out his name._

Keith. Keith wasn’t an oasis but instead a cozy cottage with a steaming chimney and open door. Lance could feel enveloped in warmth, security, and familiarity. He could empty himself into it knowing Keith would do the same.

It wasn't want, it was a need.

Now that felt a lot like how love was supposed to be like.

_“Now we fix it.”_

Lance extended a hand towards the ceiling, as if Keith was right there, ready to give Keith everything he had.

_“We make a good team.”_

Only this time for everything Lance gave he knew he would receive in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this was boring or not what you were expecting. college apps are kicking my ass but i hope this wasn't too bad.

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts? give me love please. also, if you want anything with lance, please don't hesitate to ask. i'm not as mean as the summary makes me out to be ~.~


End file.
